The Clerk
by Anthros Paxx
Summary: Peek into the life of one of the many, nameless staff who help to keep Arachnos running.  This is the full story of the reluctant villain.  Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

The clerk sat in front of the glowing screen. The large monitor giving his face a sickly green tint as his spider like fingers padded silently across the symbols in front of him. 'Twenty four units of left shoulder pads? Impossible I ordered thirty six full sets. This will not do, this simply will not do.' The clerk never jacked in like the others. He enjoyed the way the smooth cold data pad felt under his fingers. He took pride in the speed at which he worked. He had convinced himself that he could type faster than some of the other clerks could think. 'Arbiter Denton will not be pleased. No he will not be pleased at all. Unless...I fix it. Yes I shall fix it!' The tapping increased to a steady hum as the clerks long thin fingers moved with almost inhuman speed. 'There! Thirty six right shoulder pads routed from the training supply, they have plenty to spare. Only half the protection but they look the same. Then, the twelve right shoulder pads would be collected from the morgue after a good spray down.' The clerk cracked his fingers and sat back, pleased with himself. The hours were awful ,the pay was laughable but the clerk actually enjoyed his little bolt on the Arachnos machine.

In his small room the clerk was safe. The faint light hummed and popped. He sat on his bunk staring at the small mirror above the sink. His dark brown eyes were set deep in a thin pale face. Clean shaven on both his chin and head with the exception of some dark stubble that clung like moss to the skin above each ear. The clerk smiled at his reflection, the high cheekbones making his toothy grin appear unreal and false. He hated his face however it did seem to be built perfectly for his slight wiry frame, the pale, thin skin showing every awkward angle of his body which he hated with equal measure. 'Thirty six. Thirty six.' He felt his mind slipping to that bad place. He fell off the bed onto his hands and knees shaking and sweating. 'No, NO!' He quickly felt under the bed for the spot he knew so well. His fingers felt for the blemish and found it. With an audible sigh he pushed the slight indentation. The hidden drawer slid open without a sound.

There, resting in a nest of greasy rags was his true love. She was painted in a dark green matt that seemed to soak up the light. At a glance it appeared to be just a standard issue Arachnos assault rifle. But to the clerk it was much more.

The circumstances behind the guns arrival were not so unusual. A shipment of assault rifles was mistakenly delivered to his small base. What made this error unique was the fact that there was a miscount. The crate contained twenty five guns. The paperwork stated twenty four. One week later a crate was delivered to a remote base containing twenty four assault guns. The invoice, listing the cost of reshipping them, was typed neatly and resting on top. In his many years of service the clerk had never done anything out of the ordinary. Keeping this one gun was so against his nature that he could not even look at it for almost a year. During that time he was not idle. He studied every aspect of the gun. He went through every part and piece in his mind. He downloaded the blue prints and went over each beautiful part over and over again. He could dismantle it and clean it mentally within two weeks. Then he let his thoughts run wild. He reviewed every possible upgrade. When he became bored with the standard issue he started adding custom modifications. Soon he was seeking the bits and pieces he needed throughout the base. Clerks were largely ignored by the real soldiers. This allowed him a huge amount of freedom. After the year had passed and he was convinced that Lord Recluse would not be tearing down his door looking for the lost gun, he finally began to work. The gun was completed in six months. The upgrades he could obtain were added with room left for those upgrades that he could not yet afford or find.

Staci. That was her name. This small, beautiful, dark green piece of death was named Staci. He named her after his favourite virtual 'girlfriend,' because she was beautiful and expensive. Staci, the gun, was custom made for the clerks long nimble fingers. The symbols, triggers and safeties would make little sense to any other hands. Even if one could understand the meaning of the markings, very few would have the finger reach, speed and dexterity that the clerk knew he alone possessed. This customization would give him instant access to the many 'surprises' the compact gun contained. He gently pulled Staci out of her hidden bed. He caressed the modifications and admired the dark green finish, his favourite colour. The clerk stood in front of the mirror holding the gun. He glared at his reflection. Now holding his love, his high cheekbones and pale face seemed menacing. His wiry frame with its hard angles seemed sharp and unpredictable. 'I would run from me. Yes I fucking would. I would run FAR! The clerk clicked the shotgun mechanism over and over again. 'RUN! Hahaha! What? You're a hero? What's your name? Never heard of you! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!' The clerk screamed out the sounds that he and his new lover would make. In these private moments he could let his thoughts run wild. Several hours later the clerk collapsed, sweating, on his bunk. With Staci tucked away in her hiding place the clerk smeared a small amount of gun grease under his nose and drifted off to sleep.

He stared at the light grey lumps of processed meat floating in the milky liquid. He could only stomach two bites of the 'ration of the day'. He sipped at the cold stimulant drink waiting for it to take hold on his sleepy mind. He stared at the black screen. Data tablets were shut off during the 20 minute lunch time to save generator juice. Five more minutes….five more minutes until…..The explosion slammed his head into his data pad. Dazed he slid off of his chair onto the floor and crawled beneath his desk. Another explosion and the smell of burnt hair followed soon after. Shaking uncontrollably the clerk tried to focus on the battle unfolding. There were strange flashes followed by popping as if electrical lines had been snapped and were whipping around. Then he heard the screams. The screams were loud and terrifying and they were mingled in with the sound of automatic gunfire and the occasional high pitched revving of an energy blast. The strange popping noise was steady and sure but more distressing was the fact that each pop seemed to silence a gun with now the smell of, cooked beef? Perhaps the soup had been tipped over the clerk thought desperately. Then the pops and screams seemed to stop suddenly. The clerk held his breath. The milky white soup was dripping from the lip of his desk. The sound of each drop resonated in the room as it landed in the white pool just inches from his nose as he lay curled under his desk. Just when he thought this terror had passed he heard the footsteps. Each step seemed to be accompanied by a strange hum which increased as the mysterious intruder approached the desk. The clerk closed his eyes and did not move a muscle. There was a hope however small that this unknown presence would see the spilt cup of soup and move on. As this thought finished in his mind the clerk sensed the footsteps had stopped and he slowly opened one eye. There just inches from his face were two large dirty yellow boots. The boots were thick and heavy in appearance. Small little glowing veins seemed to be threaded through them pulsing and humming with power. 'All right you little piece of shit.' Said the voice attached to the feet. 'I need you to listen VERY carefully to what I am about to tell you. Whimper once if you can hear me.' The clerk could not stop the low deep moan of fear that erupted from his throat. 'I guess that will have to do. Today is your lucky day. I am going to let you live with a couple of conditions. First I want you to crawl out from under that desk and look at me.' The clerk cautiously slid his head out from underneath his makeshift shelter. Laying on his back the clerk stared up at his tormentor. He was big. His thick insulated suit only served to enhance his size. The small glowing veins seemed to be threaded through both gloves as well. On his left arm was a large glowing yellow transparent disk, buzzing with energy. This seemed to be some type of force shield. His right arm was the source of the popping. The veins or wires on the right glove were glowing brightly. The loud popping seemed to follow flashes of electricity moving over his clenched fist. There were brown splashes over the glove and up the arm and slight wisps of smoke rose from these smears. The clerk's stomach flipped as he realized this smoke was the source of the cooked beef smell. The head was encased in a half helmet with a full mirrored face plate covered in a spray of bright red droplets. 'You…..your Shock Shield! You've done work for us!' The clerk stammered. 'Yep, you're a bright one aint ya? That is why, you skinny little fuck, I let you live. You're going to tell your boss bitches that this job was done by Phil A Ment. He is a hero with electric powers who has stomped on my last goddamn nerve for well over a year now. You're going to tell them that you put up a good fight but he shocked you and you passed out. You know why you're going to do this?' The clerk gave a small shake of his head. 'I never burn a bridge that's why. This gear costs a lot of money to keep up and I need all the work I can get. The money for this little job was just too good to pass up. Oh, by the way, I also found this.' The glowing shock glove opened to reveal the clerks I.D. badge. 'If I EVER find out you squeaked that I was here or if I do not get a contract from Arachnos for a while I will find you and I will kill you. You see this glove here, the one with all the charred blood on it? That's right give it a good once over you pale little pussy. I can adjust this from very low to VERY high. When I come for you, we will give each setting a good hour until we hit that magic number. Am I making myself clear?" The clerk nodded once, his eyes still glued to his work badge. 'Good.' The Super Villain tucked the I.D. into his broad belt. 'Now your heroic struggle begins and ends. Touch my shield and try not to piss yourself.' With trembling fingers, the clerk reached out and gently touched the large humming disc.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2.

"So, it appears you are the sole survivor from Arbiter Denton's base." The man sat behind his desk staring at his white data pad. "How…..fortunate for you." The Arbiter looked up with his icy blue eyes and studied the clerk. His white armour was polished so bright it was like staring directly at a florescent light. His helmet was hanging from a white peg on the grey brick wall. The office was small and smelled of urine mixed with sickly sweet bleach. The latter aroma seemed to be emanating from a white porcelain bowl which contained a pyramid shaped stack of white balls. "You stated later, under questioning, that the base was attacked by a little known super hero called 'Phil A Ment.' You attempted to stop him but after a long struggle, you were finally shocked into unconsciousness." The Arbiter picked up one of the balls and carefully placed it in his mouth and pursed his lips. His shaved head had several jacks on the left side one of which had a plug directly into the data pad which he casually pulled out. "Clerk 9157, it appears that you are quite the saviour. Would you agree with my estimation?" The clerk stared in fear. How should he answer this man? What answer would return him to his little piece of normalcy? What answer would avoid a lengthy prison sentence or death? What possible answer would guarantee all of these things? There wasn't one. The clerk knew as did most who oiled the Arachnos machine that Arbiter 'justice' was harsh, swift and unpredictable. As his mind stalled his body began to shake. He opened his mouth and realized to his horror that his tongue would not move. As he sat there, mouth gaping wide the Arbiter's jaw flexed with a loud crunching noise followed by the smell of moth balls and decay. "No need to speak. Since our camera systems were fried there is no way for us to confirm your story. I have decided to believe you." The clerk slowly shut his mouth. His mind was still trying to comprehend the words he had just heard. "Now we shall sort through your personal effects." The Arbiter casually looked under his desk and pulled out a box. "These items were found in your room." He reached in and pulled out, in pieces, a full set of Arachnos armour in dark green and carefully set them to one side. "I am impressed. You managed to obtain a full set of field clerk armour. I have not seen one of these for some years now since they were replaced with data bots." The clerk stared at the armour. He had always dreamed of becoming a field clerk, but the number of officers who still used them in battle could be counted on one hand. "I see you have thought to collect some contraband as well." The clerk's head snapped to the Arbiter who was holding a small sex simulator that, when used, was attached with pads and wires to various parts. The Arbiter placed this into a new pile forming on his left with a look of disgust. He picked up another of the small white balls and crushed it between both hands rubbing furiously before he continued his search. "What do we have here?" The Arbiter carefully pulled out a loosely wrapped bundle. There in the greasy rags he had left her in was Staci. His breath caught in his throat and a white hot ball of panic began to form in the pit of his stomach. The Arbiter removed the wrapping and examined the heavily modified gun. "Is this some sort of model? I can see no way of operating this strange item. There are no discernable trigger mechanisms just these strange symbols placed in odd places for what appears to be a standard issue assault rifle. It seems a bit heavy for a fake. No matter, it is clearly non-functional." The Arbiter began to place it in the pile to his left. The clerk heard the words leave his mouth before his mind could process them fully. "No. Please, no." It was just a whisper but the Arbiter froze and slowly turned his icy glare to the clerk. "No? I'm sorry but did you just say NO to me?" "Arbiter, I beg you. It is a toy I made for my Nephew. I still hope to give it to him one day. Please let me keep it." The Arbiter did not alter his glare. Then, after what seemed like an eternity the corner of his mouth began to twitch. "You pathetic little man. Before you have even thanked me from sparing your life you DARE to demand favours from ME!" You little piece of BOOT SHIT!" The Arbiter face seemed to vibrate with fury. Spittle had formed at the corner of his mouth which trickled down to the black cleft of his chin as he slowly stood up. "I grow bored of this interview. Let us play a game! I do so enjoy games. I have in my hand a lovely but archaic revolver. This and the many other old guns I collect and treasure are called MY 'toys.' The game is this. I will give you your toy back and a five second head start. If you can kill me with your toy before I can kill you with mine you win. Go ahead take it." The Arbiter slid Staci across the desk and sat down with his revolver pointed at the clerk. He slowly picked up his love. He was so happy to touch her again he only half heard the Arbiter speaking. "Now, if you have difficulties shooting your toy before I have started counting to five I would recommend using it to beat me with, if you attempt this however, the five second rule will be null an-" The top of the Arbiter's head exploded as the shotgun blast reverberated through the small office. The clerk stood up with his love still smoking. He gently laid her on the counter and slowly began to don the field clerk armour. He was pleased to see the Arbiters chair had rollers which made it easy to move his mostly headless corpse to the far corner. He then pushed over the desk, crouched behind it, pointed Staci at the door and waited.

The first sound at the door was a loud banging, followed by a voice. "Arbiter! Arbiter! Are you all right in there?" The clerk remained silent. A smile slowly spread across his face. 'Let's see what you can do my love.' The clerk thought. The door burst inward as a metal sphere was rolled in from the side. The clerk ducked quickly behind the desk noting as he did that it was made of some sort of metal. There was a loud BANG and a blinding light which was lessened by his visor. With his ears ringing he popped back up quickly and unleashed Staci. His first blast was from the shotgun. It clipped the top of the first Arachnos helmet as it peaked around the corner. The helmet went flying off and the soldier fell back grabbing his face. Two soldiers immediately popped around with a full blast from their maces which pushed the clerk and desk back about a foot. They were quickly knocked aside by Stacy's full auto mode. It was a highly illegal mod which disintegrated the left side of the door frame and half of one of the soldiers in a spray of red mist. There was a second pause before four thugs broke free and charged toward the door with full auto covering fire from a soldier on the right side of the frame. The clerk braved the auto fire with rounds punching through the desk and some whizzing by his head, he focused on the four and with a slight 'POP' loosed a grenade from Staci's launcher which exploded in a large mass of sticky webs. The thugs were immobilized within seconds. The clerk made an agile adjustment and loosed two more grenades in rapid succession. One exploded on impact knocking the men over, the second loosed a toxic poison which would mop up those not yet incapacitated by the grenade. The clerk grinned as he had not forgotten about the soldier hiding behind the wall to the right of the door and loosed a special round at the spot he believed him to be standing. The shotgun slug put a hole in the wall the size of a man's head. The soldier flew forward nearly ten feet and landed with a moist thump sliding face down painting a bright red streak with the newly formed hole in his torso. There was a long pause. The silence was total. The clerk covered his mouth as green tendrils from the poison grenade drifted lazily in the room. The clerk sat there for what seemed like hours. 'Surely there must be more.' He thought. The room had cleared and he could see outside. The forms on the ground were not moving. The clerk knew if he was going to escape he had to move quickly before reinforcements arrived. He was not sure how long he sat there waiting but decided to move. He stood up stepped over the desk and moved silently to the door at the far end of the room. With a steady hand he gently opened the door and peeked through.

Sitting at a desk in the middle of the room with his hands folded was a middle aged man with sandy blonde hair. "Ah, clerk 9157. Please do not be alarmed, I am the only one here and as you can see I am unarmed. Please have a seat." The man, wearing a neatly pressed suit was grinning broadly. The clerk noticed a simple metal chair across from the desk. He opened the door slowly looked around the room and saw that it was indeed empty and walked slowly to the chair before taking a seat. "Wow! What an eventful day for you? My name is agent Baxter. I am hired by Lord Recluse to seek out the up and coming talent among the ranks. I would love to say that we have been watching you for weeks but one of my sources contacted me just an hour ago. He gets a small fee, as do all my contacts for informing me of any exceptional talent." The clerk sat staring at this strange, grinning apparition. He could not believe what he was hearing. "Now, we realize you have killed some soldiers, and this is an unfortunate event. I can make all this go away if you agree to certain conditions. Would you like to hear them or shall I just bring in the Blood Widows and Bane Spiders I have with me?" The clerk could not make himself speak. His bottom lip would not stop quivering which set off the twitch in his right eye. " I shall take your silence as my queue to proceed. Now, we could just kill you or take you to jail for this infraction but since your talent has been recognized I can offer you full free agent status within Arachnos after soldier training of course. You will be paid well and your accommodation and food will be covered during your service as a free agent. If this is acceptable to you I will now need some verbal response so we might proceed. The clerk cleared his throat and spoke. "Your proposal sounds good agent. I do have one question and one request if you do not mind." The agent seemed surprised by any questions to such a generous offer. His smile faded for just a moment before he spoke again. "Yes please, ask your question." The clerk looked down at Staci and when he looked up again his eyes were focused. "This soldier training you mentioned. Did the soldiers at this base receive it as well?" The Agent gave him an odd look before responding. "Well, yes of course. All Arachnos soldiers receive the same basic training." The clerk thought about this for a moment. "Then with all due respect I would rather not participate in this training." The Agent seemed to consider this for a moment. "Very well, your status will move immediately to free agent if you accept. You mentioned a request?" The clerk grinned nervously before speaking. "Yes, if you would not mind. I would like to have my old room at my old base." The Agent immediately began tapping on his phone. He seemed to do this for several minutes before looking up and addressing the clerk. "The base has been decommissioned and no repairs have been made. There are no plans in the near future to utilize the space again as it is fairly isolated. The base is yours if you wish but we will not pay for the repairs." The clerk tucked Staci under his arm and slowly stood. The Agent leaned back ever so slightly his face expressionless. The clerk extended his hand which the agent accepted with a small sigh of relief. "Agent Baxter, you have a deal." "I am pleased to hear that. Now, before we give you a lift to your old base, we need to know what to call you. Clerk 9157 is no longer acceptable given your new status." The clerk looked at the agent lost in thought. He stared down studying his armour before speaking. "You can call me Desk Donkey." "Desk Donkey, isn't that a derogatory name that the soldiers call the clerks?" "It is." "But that's absurd! There will be times when you will be called to rescue and maybe even deploy soldiers on missions. They MUST respect you! With a name like Desk Donkey, they will certainly make fun!" The clerk gave a large malicious grin. His eyes narrowed and he seemed to stand a little taller. "I hope so Agent Baxter. I sincerely hope so. By the way, have you met my Staci?"


End file.
